


A weekend away

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Punching out my dancelines [30]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bed & Breakfast shenanigans, Breakfast in Bed, DWMP verse, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, Hot Tub Sex, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3408002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celegorm and Oromë take time off for some well-deserved R&R. Another couple has a similar idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A weekend away

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. I spent the weekend ensconced in a B&B during a blizzard, happily doing nothing but eating too much and sleeping too late and drinking wine by the fire, and mentioned to a couple people that I feel some of my dwmp couples could use this kind of treatment…and then I lost the battle with self-control (what else is new) and wrote a weekend getaway for my two favorite couples.  
> 1\. In particular, since I am in the midst of raining misfortune down on poor Tyelko and Orome, I felt the least they deserved was a weekend romp.

“I swear to god it was mountain lion scat.”

“Do you have any idea how many years it’s been since we’ve had mountain lions around here? About a hundred. A hundred years. The last time there were mountains lions in this part of the country…let’s just say I’d have been in exponentially bigger trouble for sleeping with you.”

“Hey, look, perspective! But I’m right about the scat. Swear to _god_.”

“I think you need to work on your tracking skills.”

“Teach me your ways, o master, I will listen and learn – but I don’t give a fuck what you say, that was mountain lion scat.”

“Okay, fine, I’m _sure_ you’re right. Mountain lion. Definitely.” Oromë pushed open the door to their cottage and stomped to get the snow off his boots.

Celegorm crowded in behind him, red-cheeked from the cold, and dragged his scarf off. “You’re humoring me.”

“Me? Never.” Oromë shook himself, sending snow flying, and Celegorm laughed.

“Shoulda worn a hat, man, now I can see what you’re gonna look like when you get old.” He reached up and brushed frost from Oromë’s hair, and Oromë looked vaguely perturbed.

“That’s not something I particularly want to think about.”

Celegorm fastened his fingers into Oromë’s collar and pulled him into a cold-nosed kiss. “Straight-up silver fox, you’ll be.”

Oromë tugged Celegorm’s fur-flapped hat off and grinned as Celegorm’s shaggy hair fell into his eyes. “At least I don’t have hat-hair.”

Celegorm ignored this and pressed close, starting to unbutton Oromë’s jacket. “You know…that hike really worked up my appetite…”

“There are leftover muffins from breakfast,” Oromë began, but broke off as Celegorm kissed him again.

“Not the kind of appetite I was talking about. Wanna give that hot-tub I spotted last night a try?”

 

-

 

“Findekáno.”

“Mm?”

“It’s 11 o’clock.”

“Mm.”

“Are you planning on getting out of bed at all today?”

“Mmm. No.”

Maedhros sighed and stretched out on the bed next to the lump that was Fingon. “This was your idea, you know. You found this place, you booked the rooms, you brought the wine and everything…I feel like we should take advantage of it.”

The lump yawned and curled into a tighter ball. “We did take advantage of it. Three times, last night. And I woke up for the coffee and muffins this morning.”

“You didn’t even get out of bed to enjoy them.”

“I know. I enjoyed them in bed, as god intended.”

“Are we going to spend this whole weekend without ever leaving the room?” Maedhros picked up a brochure from the twee little basket on the bedside table. “Look, there are nature hikes – ”

“It’s snowing. I hate hiking in the snow.”

“ – and there’s a neat historic district to walk around…”

“Psh. History. Overrated.”

“Finno…”

Fingon emerged from the blankets and fixed Maedhros with a piercing stare. “Mae. I chose this place because there are fireplaces in every room, you don’t even have to leave to get breakfast, and it’s the off-season, so there’s practically no one else in any of the cottages and we don’t have to be quiet. We can spend the weekend naked and warm, living on muffins and coffee, I can sleep for 12 hours straight if I want to, and I swear, you can have me any minute, any hour of the day, as long as you promise not to make me get out of bed.” He began to pull Maedhros into the blankets with him, tugging him closer until he could kiss Maedhros’ neck, and Maedhros laughed and let him.

“Okay, look, can we try out the hot-tub, at least? You said yourself no one else is here this time of year, and…” He trailed off suggestively. “…we’ve never actually fooled around in a hot-tub before.”

Fingon sat up, looking interested. “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

Maedhros gave him a slow smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Hah.” Fingon kicked back the blankets. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Grab some towels and the rest of the wine.”

“It’s not even noon!”

“Babe, I’m on _vacation_. Get the wine.”

 

-

 

Celegorm let out a sigh of pleasure as he sank down into the steaming water, the falling snowflakes melting several inches before they reached the misty surface of the hot tub.

“Ahhh, okay, this is the life.”

Oromë stretched out a long arm along the lip of the hot tub, letting his fingers brush against Celegorm’s bare shoulder. “If I’d known all it would take is a few dozen gallons of hot water to get you this mellow, I would have invested in one of these long ago.”

“You definitely should.” Celegorm closed his eyes and tilted his head back, smiling as he felt Oromë shift closer to him. He kept his eyes closed as Oromë brushed a light kiss to his shoulder, and then a slightly longer one to his throat. He laughed as he felt Oromë take him by the hips and pull him over into his lap, arms wrapping around his waist. “It may mellow _me_ out, but it seems to be having the opposite effect on you. Getting a little worked up, hm?” He shifted experimentally and grinned delightedly as Oromë growled and nuzzled roughly against his neck. “Oh yeah, I’ll say you’re getting worked up…way up, damn.” He turned in Oromë’s arms and gripped the rim of the hot-tub behind Oromë’s shoulders, pulling himself chest to chest with Oromë as he settled astride his lap.

“I’ve been worked up since this morning,” murmured Oromë into Celegorm’s ear. “Since I woke with you naked and hard and rubbing against me…”

“And you fucked me then.”

“If you thought I was even close to done with you, Tyelko…”

Celegorm gasped, and laughed, and tightened his legs around Oromë’s waist as Oromë kept whispering into his ear and his hands drifted lower on Celegorm’s body.

“Good. I don’t want you to _ever_ be done with me.”

 

-

 

“No glass allowed in the hot tub, I think they said…”

“That’s why I brought plastic cups for the wine,” said Fingon, unconcernedly, swinging the bottle and hitching up the towel wrapped around his hips. “Christ, my feet are going to be like frozen chunks of ice by the time we get there.”

Maedhros shivered, clutching at his own towel. “Walk faster.”

They rounded the corner of the path that led to the gazebo where the hot-tub was, and Fingon stopped dead. Maedhros walked straight into him, and both of them slipped on the icy path.

“ _Findekáno_. What the hell – ”

“Hooooly shit.”

“ _What?_ ”

Fingon pointed. “Um. We’ve been pre-empted. Also. Is that your _brother_?”

Maedhros, who’d clutched at Fingon’s shoulders for balance, peered around him. “What – Oh my GOD. Oh my god. What. Nooo…” His feet slid on the icy path as he ducked down to hide behind Fingon. “Oh my god, retreat, retreat.”

Fingon seemed transfixed. “Wow…I’m just…impressed, mostly. God, I hope that water is chemically treated though, damn…”

“Finnoooo…” Maedhros tried to wail while keeping his voice to a whisper. “Please turn around. Let’s just take a shower or something instead. Anything.” He took his hand from his towel to cover his eyes, and his towel slipped dangerously. “Help help help…”

 

-

 

Oromë paused and Celegorm bit at him impatiently. “Don’t stop _now_.”

“Um. There are…I think there are people coming…”

“The only person I care about coming is – ”

“Oh. Oh dear.”

“What, already?”

“ _No_. There’s…well, a tall red-headed man seems to have fallen on the ice. Oh. And he’s dropped his towel…Looks like we weren’t the only ones to forget bathing suits. Ouch.”

“Oromë. Focus, for fuck’s sake.”

But Oromë was frowning, preoccupied, even as Celegorm dug his fingers into his shoulders. “…Is that your _brother_?”

“Dude, that isn’t even close to funny.”

“I’m not kidding.”

Celegorm craned his neck around to look and his eyes widened. “What the fuck, Nelyo, seriously?” He sighed and sank his head onto Oromë’s shoulder. “So much for a weekend away…Hey, I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?”

 

 


End file.
